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Viktor hovered hesitantly in the doorway of his guest room. Yuuri was hunched over his laptop for the third hour in a row, a series of pages spread out before him on the desk.
“Darling,” he called quietly.
Yuuri looked at Viktor over his shoulder, pulling out one of his earbuds. He lowered his screen, where Phichit, Leo, and Guang Hong’s faces could be seen in the corner.
“What’s up?” Yuuri asked.
“I just wanted to see if you needed anything,” Viktor said. “You’ve been on there for a while.”
Yuuri gave his fiancé a soft smile. “I’m fine, thanks. I’ll be here for a while, don’t worry about me,” he assured.
Yuuri turned back to the computer and put his earbud back in, signaling that their conversation was over. Viktor reluctantly stepped out of the room, closing the door behind him. At his feet, Makkachin stared up at him with soulful eyes, letting out a soft whimper.
Viktor scratched the poodle behind the ears. “I know, Makka, I miss him, too,” he whined.
Viktor sulked on the couch with Makkachin for the rest of the afternoon, cuddling the poodle in his arms when they both wished Yuuri was with them. It was a little pathetic, he realized belatedly, to be pouting because his fiancé was ignoring him in the next room. He wasn’t the kind of fiancé where he had to spend every hour of every day with Yuuri. But every other week, Yuuri spent their day off skyping with his friends all afternoon. It cut into valuable time where Viktor could have been cuddling with his fiancé.
It was strange, too, how Viktor’s normally reserved and shy Yuuri could skype for hours. Normally getting a sentence out of him was hard. How long could someone reasonably talk anyway?
Viktor continued sulking, watching TV with Makkachin for two hours, until Yuuri finally exited the guest room. Yuuri immediately beelined for the couch, collapsing on Viktor’s chest.
“Hi,” Yuuri greeted with a soft smile.
Despite his mood, Viktor’s heart couldn’t help but flutter when Yuuri smiled like that. He immediately wrapped his arms around Yuuri, pulling his fiancé to his chest. Yuuri would have to pry his fingers off to get out of his embrace.
Viktor nuzzled into Yuuri’s hair. “Hi,” he greeted.
“What are we watching?” Yuuri asked, glancing at the TV.
Viktor shrugged. In all honesty, he hadn’t been watching for a while, too busy posting sad selfies to Instagram. “Did you have fun?” He subtly tried to dig more information out of his fiancé.
Yuuri nodded. “Yeah, they’re always fun to talk to.”
Viktor carded his fingers through Yuuri’s hair. “What did you talk about?”
Yuuri shrugged. “Oh, this and that,” he said vaguely.
Viktor pursed his lips. He didn’t mind that Yuuri talked with his friends. He just wanted to be able to cuddle him while he did it.
“Maybe next time I can join you?” Viktor suggested. “I’d love to learn more about your friends.”
“No!” Yuuri shouted, pushing up from Viktor’s chest.
The sound startled Makkachin from his nap, and the old poodle slid off the couch to find a quieter resting spot. Viktor stared at Yuuri in shock. It was rare for Yuuri to raise his voice, much less at Viktor. A pang of hurt shot through his chest. Was Yuuri really that averse to Viktor meeting his friends.
Yuuri saw the hurt pass over Viktor’s face, and immediately felt guilty for shouting. “It’s not you,” Yuuri said, giving Viktor’s side a squeeze. “It’s... we don’t just talk.”
Viktor was still a little hurt, but was willing to hear Yuuri out. “What do you do?” he pressed.
Yuuri’s face flushed. “It’s really dorky, don’t worry about it.”
Viktor pouted even harder. “I love you and you’re really dorky,” he pointed out.
“Viktor,” Yuuri whined, burying his face in Viktor’s shoulder. “That’s embarrassing,” he mumbled.
Viktor laughed, rubbing his hands over Yuuri’s back. “It’s true!”
Yuuri waited for the rumbling laughter in Viktor’s chest to die down. He kept his face pressed against Viktor’s shoulder, too embarrassed to look his fiancé in the eye. He mumbled something incomprehensible into Viktor’s shoulder.
Viktor frowned. “What was that?”
Yuuri sighed, before mumbling a bit louder. “We’re playing Dungeons & Dragons,” he admitted sheepishly.
Viktor stared at his fiancé for a moment, wondering if that was supposed to mean anything to him. He racked his brain for what little he knew about D&D. He was sure he’d heard it somewhere...
His face lit up, like a metaphorical lightbulb going off. “Is that that American cult thing?” He paused. “Are you in a cult, Yuuri?”
Yuuri immediately sat up, waving his hands in front of his face. “No no no no no. I’m not in a cult.” His face was still red, as he struggled to explain tabletop roleplaying to his fiancé. “It’s, it’s a game.”
Viktor had seen Yuuri play Pokémon enough, had even played it himself a little while Yuuri explained the controls. “Like a video game?”
Yuuri winced. “Kind of? Except there’s no UI or graphics or controls, so really it’s not like a video game at all.” Viktor gave Yuuri a blank look.
“It’s a fantasy tabletop roleplaying game?”
Viktor looked even more confused.
“Did you ever play pretend when you were a kid?” Yuuri tried. At Viktor’s slow nod he continued. “It’s like that, except we’re all adults and there are more rules.”
Viktor nodded, trying to wrap his head around the revelation that his fiancé was a bigger dork than he’d realized. It was kind of cute. “Okay.”
That night, Viktor googled Dungeons & Dragons to try and learn more about Yuuri’s hobby. He also double checked to make absolutely sure it wasn’t a cult. The next morning, newly informed and brimming with plans, he brought it up to Yuuri again.
“Can I play D&D?” he asked over breakfast.
Yuuri spit his tea across the table. “What?!”
Viktor repeated his question, watching his fiancé with earnest eyes. Yuuri blinked. “You want to play D&D.”
Viktor nodded. “I want to know more about my love’s interests!” he exclaimed.
Yuuri still gave him a dubious look. “Okay,” he said tentatively. “We could use a cleric.”
Two weeks later, Viktor sat in front of Yuuri’s laptop one arm happily wrapped around his fiancé, as Phichit, Guang Hong, and Leo appeared over Skype.
“I can’t believe we’re playing D&D with Viktor Nikiforov,” Leo murmured, as Phichit got his DM screen in order.
It was a bit of a moot point to have a DM screen over Skype, but Phichit insisted for the aesthetic.
“Well I’m not Viktor Nikiforov today, I’m...” Viktor paused to look at his character sheet. “Legolas Galanodel.”
Leo raised an eyebrow. “Legolas?”
“It’s the only elf he knows,” Yuuri whispered into the mic.
The others snickered, interrupted by Phichit clearing his throat. “So, let’s go around and introduce our characters and then we’ll get started!”
Viktor excitedly described the character he and Yuuri had spent the better part of an afternoon making. “I’m an elf cleric for the goddess Leira, and I’m on a spiritual quest to prove myself in battle!”
Phichit gave him an amused look. “So you’re a holy man?”
“I happen to love holes.”
Yuuri groaned, covering his face. “Moving on.”
“What’s your alignment?” Guang Hong asked.
“Chaotic neutral.”
Leo snorted. “We’re all going to die.”
Leo went next. “I’m Mehen Norixius, a dragonborn bard from a noble background who’s seeking revenge for my murdered family. I’m chaotic good.”
Viktor furrowed his brow. “What’s a dragonborn?” he whispered to Yuuri.
“It’s like a giant lizard.”
“I’m a lawful neutral dwarven barbarian named Morgran Fireforge whose clan has been in service to Mehen’s family for generations,” Guang Hong explained.
Everyone turned to Yuuri, now that it was his turn to introduce his character. The bridge of Yuuri’s nose was a bright red.
“Um, I’m a neutral good human wizard who specializes in ice magic, and I’m seeking to become the greatest wizard in the land.”
“Tell us your name, Yuuri,” Phichit said with a wicked grin.
“Vanya Niliforv,” Yuuri mumbled.
Everyone giggled except Viktor, who stared at Phichit blankly. “Are we ready to start?”
We open on a cave in the Underdark, where a trio of adventurers, Vanya, Mehen, and Morgran stumbled in complete darkness. Morgran was at the head, being the only one who could see.
“I don’t detect any traps here,” Morgran whispered to his companions.
He took a step forward and immediately fell into a pit of spikes.
“Ow,” Morgran whimpered.
It took Vanya and Mehen a good ten minutes to fish Morgran out of the pit in complete darkness. “At the next town we’re hiring a rogue,” Mehen said as he shoved a potion down Morgran’s gullet.
They continued through the caverns, certain that they were tripping every trap on the way. Their quest to seek justice for Mehen’s family had led them to a group of cultists that had taken refuge in the Underdark. Far underground, they came to group of hooded figures surrounding a dark altar. An elven man was tied to said altar.
“Help. Somebody,” Legolas said flatly.
Vanya pulled his companions aside. “We need to save him,” he said.
“Do we?” Morgran asked. “We can let them do their thing and swoop in when they’re busy.”
“We should probably do something,” Mehen said, agreeing with Vanya.
“Okay,” Morgran brandished his greatsword.
“Maybe we should come up with a plan first,” Vanya suggested.
The cultists started chanting in the background. “Oh no. They’re about to slit my throat,” Legolas deadpanned.
“Fight first, plan later,” Morgran said.
Mehen stepped into the dim lamplight surrounding the ritual circle. He cleared his throat, pulling a lute out of hyperspace. The cultists all stopped, turning to stare at the strange lizard.
“Let me play you the song of my people.” He strummed the lute once and began screaming.
While the cultists were distracted, Vanya, being the sneakiest of the group, snuck up to the altar where Legolas was tied. He motioned for Legolas to be silent as he froze the shackles around Legolas’ wrists.
“Wow! Are you an angel?” Legolas asked.
The cultists turned away from Mehen’s screaming and back to where their captive was breaking out of his chains. Vanya and Yuuri facepalmed.
Phichit chuckled into his hand, as Viktor was still struggling to understand being in character. Guang Hong raised his hand. “Can I rage now?”
“Everyone roll initiative,” Phichit instructed.
Morgran charged forward, slicing into one of the cultists with his greatsword. Mehen spent his turn casting Fear on one of the cultists, causing him to run deeper into the Underdark, and then he sang Spice Girls to inspire Vanya.
“How can he play the lute with claws?” Legolas asked.
Vanya groaned. “Don’t ask.”
Legolas’ turn came, and he took sight of the chaos around him. His captors had stolen his armor, leaving him in one of their flimsy robes.
“Can I strip naked?” Viktor asked, breaking character.
Phichit stopped in the middle of his description of Legolas’ situation. “Um, the cloak isn’t hurting you, it’s just not giving you a boost to AC.”
“I know,” Viktor said. “Can I strip naked anyway?”
Everyone in the call stared at him. Phichit shrugged. “It will take a round of combat, but sure.”
“Great!” Viktor said cheerily.
Legolas used his first taste of freedom to strip butt ass naked in the middle of combat.
Yuuri flipped wildly through his spellbook. “Um, okay, I’d like to cast Ice Storm on the cultist in the middle.”
Phichit paused in thought for a moment. “Roll a concentration check.”
Yuuri did so, groaning when he rolled a one.
The sight of Legolas’ pasty ass also caused Vanya to lose concentration when trying to cast, and the spell fizzled between his hands.
Legolas winked over his shoulder at Vanya. “Like what you see?”
Then, one of the cultists cast a spell causing the earth to tremor, knocking both Morgran and Vanya off their feet. A stalactite fell and hit Morgran on top of the head. Having taken a beating, both from the fight and all the traps he’d tripped, roughly half of Morgran’s blood was outside of his body.
“If only we had someone who could heal us,” Morgran groaned in his death throes.
Legolas stood with his hands on his hips, surveying the battlefield. Two of his saviors were down, with only one cultist left standing.
He healed Vanya at his feet.
“What?!” Yuuri exclaimed indignantly. “I’m barely even hurt! Morgran is dying!”
Viktor shrugged. “Vanya is cuter.” He rolled a four-sided dice. “You heal for six hit points.”
Leo looked up pensively. “Does this count as selfcest?” he wondered aloud.
A look of realization passed over Viktor’s face. “Vanya is based off of me!” he exclaimed, finally getting the joke roughly twenty years after everyone else.
After healing back to full, Vanya took out the last remaining cultists with a delayed Ice Storm. The danger gone, the party crowded around Morgran’s bleeding body. “Are you alive?” Mehen asked.
Morgran groaned in response.
“I think that’s dwarf for ‘yes,’” Mehen translated.
“It’s okay, I’m a cleric,” Legolas said, still naked, as he pushed Mehen and Vanya out of the way.
“Viktor, roll a medicine check to see if you can stop the bleeding,” Phichit instructed.
Viktor did, rolling one of his shiny new dice. “I got a one, is that bad?”
Legolas, had a tenuous grasp on combat medicine at best, and began performing CPR on Morgran. Neither Vanya nor Mehen thought to point out that CPR was an inappropriate treatment for heavy bleeding. As Legolas pushed on Morgran’s chest, he heard a loud crack from the dwarf’s chest.
“What was that?” Vanya asked desperately.
“Um. A sign of healing, I’m sure,” Legolas said, pulling shit out of his ass.
Morgran stopped breathing.
“Oh my god, you killed him!” Vanya shrieked.
“Oops?” Legolas said sheepishly.
“What do we do?” Vanya panicked.
“Do you have any resurrection spells?” Mehen asked.
Viktor looked at his spell sheet. “No. I have Animate Dead?” he offered.
Yuuri put his face in his hands. “Why do you have Animate Dead and not Revivify,” he groaned.
Viktor shrugged. “This one was cooler.”
Legolas cast Animate Dead on Morgran’s corpse. Mehen and Vanya stared at the mimicry of life possessing what was once their friend.
“That’s just wrong,” Vanya said, wrinkling his nose.
Legolas pouted. “But look, now he can dance!”
Morgran’s corpse punctuated his statement with a little jig, limbs flailing uncoordinated. Vanya sighed, rubbing his temples.
“Make him dance back to the city and let’s see if we can find a priest,” Vanya sighed.
“This calls for a funeral dirge,” Mehen said solemnly, beginning to strum lowly on his lute.
He barely managed one note before his claws cut through the strings. “Fuck.”
“And that’s where we’ll pick up in two weeks!” Phichit said, clapping his hands.
All of the players but Viktor were demoralized, heads in their hands.
“That was fun!” Viktor chirped.
“You literally killed me,” Guang Hong deadpanned.
“You are the worst cleric ever,” Leo agreed.
“That’s not very nice.” Viktor pouted.
“It’s true,” Yuuri agreed. “You spent an entire round taking off you clothes.”
“They were constricting!”
The other three quickly bid their goodbyes, leaving Viktor to deal with a sulking Yuuri on his own. “Yuuri, don’t be mad,” he whined, nuzzling into his fiancé’s cheek.
Yuuri kept his arms folded. “You’re sleeping on the couch tonight.”